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<title>From Times Past by Jam Blute (CrookedCompass)</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25874326">From Times Past</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrookedCompass/pseuds/Jam%20Blute'>Jam Blute (CrookedCompass)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ferdibert Week 2020 [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Body Worship, Gentle Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, POV Hubert von Vestra, Scars</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 08:35:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,459</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25874326</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrookedCompass/pseuds/Jam%20Blute</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hubert harbors no regrets for the sacrifices he's made for Her Majesty and the Black Eagles. But at times, the looming weight of it overpowers him and Ferdinand offers him comfort simply by loving him just as he is.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Ferdibert Week 2020 [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878058</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Ferdibert Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>From Times Past</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hubert earned his first scar at ten years old while rushing to Fhirdiad for Lady Edelgard in a futile, pathetic attempt to amend a grievous wrongdoing. In the years that came after, they simply accrued. Whether at the hands of his father, during his training as a descendant of House Vestra, or on the various covert operations that began in earnest after Lady Edelgard officially returned to Enbarr, Hubert’s skin was a canvas painted in sacrifice and pain.</p><p>On most days, he was proud of that fact. Despite covering the majority of his skin, which was done to avoid questions and conceal new injuries more easily, Hubert was glad to bear the scars that kept those he cared about safe. He would earn a thousand more of them if it meant the Black Eagles would never again know the anguish of loss or unwilling sacrifice. It would be a small price to pay.</p><p>Even so, there were days where each one served to remind Hubert not of the lengths he was willing to go for the people who mattered most to him—but how much of his own humanity he’d discarded over the years. Someone as tarnished and distorted as him did not have a place in the future they would realize. By rendering himself a weapon of vengeance on behalf of Her Majesty, Hubert had all but assured he was a relic of times past. None of the horrors would truly be over so long as he remained as a monument to their wicked existence.</p><p>Throughout his day, Hubert would have no choice but to brew that thought in his mind. As he slid white gloves over blackened hands or changed out his nightshirt for his Adrestian uniform, catching a glimpse of physical and magical scars. On days with bad weather, sometimes the old wounds throbbed and refused to be forgotten despite going unseen.</p><p>And yet, as always since their relationship found its footing in their initially fragile friendship, Ferdinand sensed the change in him instantly. Hubert had carefully built his guard to keep out most anyone—even allies—and still, there was something so nuanced in his conduct that it couldn’t be erased on account of being mercurial in nature.</p><p>Instead, it led him here. On Ferdinand’s lavish bed, stretched out and mostly naked while Ferdinand travelled from scar to scar. The agreement was Hubert would describe the origin of them as Ferdinand scattered kisses across his body, with one for every mark. What he said and how much he disclosed was entirely at Hubert’s discretion. Ferdinand always had a kind word (or several) to offer.</p><p>When he accepted the arrangement, Hubert felt foolish for even considering it a viable option. What could it possibly accomplish to voice these atrocities out loud in the presence of the one person he most did not deserve? But then there was the persuasive ability of calloused hands along his skin and soft, warm lips against the dulled thread of a scar. Shame blended with arousal, each balancing out the other in light of Ferdinand’s unconditional and unwavering love.</p><p>Hubert inhaled sharply, tensing at the latest kiss. This one came to rest on the outer side of his thigh where a jagged scar ran from just above his knee to the back of his leg.</p><p>“Espionage,” he breathed, recalling the arrow, launched by a hidden archer, that grazed his leg. Black concealed his blood well and he dealt with the threat mercilessly. Silently. The cut wasn’t deep, but it went untreated long enough to leave that arc in its wake. “Faerghus.”</p><p>Ferdinand hummed approvingly, sparing it another kiss with a small shudder from Hubert. Pain was a closer companion to Hubert than pleasure, and the developed threshold for the former did not apply to the latter in the slightest.</p><p>“You are so good to us,” his boyfriend murmured against his skin, and Hubert curled his toes reflexively. “I’m grateful. For your protection.” Another kiss, another quivering sigh. “For your survival. To have the delight of you at my side, night after night, keeping me warm.”</p><p>Hubert tightened his grip on the sheets and remained still. If anyone was a source of warmth and love in their life, it was Ferdinand. But he didn’t share that attribute of his lightly. It was true that everyone got the best of Ferdinand. He would never dream of offering less than that. But to get his best alone was not interchangeable with having all the comfort that the radiant Prime Minister could provide.</p><p>He was also a safe haven for a broken, twisted man. One who was more comfortable in the bloodied shadows that hid Her Majesty’s enemies than the light of a carefree life. Ferdinand was not a perfect man, however idyllic he remained, and he knew well what it was to fight and lose. To breach a new moral low when the pain became too much bear for another moment. And of course, to forgive someone as sinister and wretched as Hubert when the fate he warranted was far, far darker than that. He saw potential where others saw ruin—Hubert included. On nights like these, the Imperial spymaster could borrow that perspective of his and more clearly see the man he wished to be still forming underneath all those scars and bitter malevolence.</p><p>“I don’t,” he paused, losing the words to Ferdinand’s hands journeying up his thigh to his abdomen. “Deserve you.”</p><p>“You don’t need to.” The answer was simple, delivered gently and with sincerity, but as unassuming as a casual observation. No more remarkable than saying the time when requested. To Ferdinand, loving Hubert was effortless and natural.</p><p>That rediscovery burned on Hubert’s face, threatening to spread down his neck. Hubert hummed at the new kiss placed to the back of his hand.</p><p>“You know what those are,” Hubert replied thinly.</p><p>“Quite astute of you! I do indeed.” He allowed Ferdinand to turn his hand palm up and kiss the center, silky curls of his hair falling over his shoulders to brush Hubert’s forearm. “They are but a symbol of your loyalty. Your hands have shielded us all for years. Before we have even perceived a threat, you remove it.”</p><p>Meanwhile, his free hand roamed up Hubert’s chest to draw meandering paths by his collarbone. The skin there was somewhat sensitive, a fact he was well aware of when he did it. The surprise came in a tender kiss to the flat center of his chest. Glancing down to meet imploring amber eyes, Hubert blinked.</p><p>“There’s no scarring there.” At times, Ferdinand acted in ways Hubert couldn’t comprehend even if he applied steady logic to the situation. A portion of him was reigned by sentimentality, which was not known for its predictable designs. This was clearly one such occasion.</p><p>“But you are hurting here, are you not?”</p><p>Hubert resented the uncertain silence that formed his paltry response. That was not <em>physically </em>where his heart was, but the point of the gesture wasn’t lost on him. After getting involved with Ferdinand, he was becoming more aware of the extent of the damage he carried within him. The scarring he concealed was so much a part of Hubert that it barely registered until this man, with his brightening smile and inspiring presence, roused various emotions he’d thought were long since deceased.</p><p>“When you are ready to share your pain with me, Hubert, I will be here.” His hair draped across Hubert’s torso as the man he came to love kissed above his metaphorical heart once more. By then, he arched into that kiss on instinct. “Always.”</p><p>Shifting his leg to be between Ferdinand’s, he slowly bent his knee until he felt the bulge of Ferdinand’s pleasure on his thigh and the huff of arousal it earned against his chest.</p><p>“Ah, we don’t have to—”</p><p>“I want to.” Perhaps that would be more credible if it was more directly put. Hubert ran darkened fingers through waves of gleaming orange hair, leaving just a faint trace of nails along his scalp just how he knew Ferdinand enjoyed. Briefly, his eyelids fluttered shut, scarcely concealing his gaze already clouded with yearning. “I want you.”</p><p>Bracing himself with his elbow on the bed beside Hubert, Ferdinand licked his lips as he studied Hubert. “Are you certain?”</p><p>“Tonight, I’d rather forget the pain. Tomorrow,” he paused, considering his decision while he stroked Ferdinand’s cheek. For once, years of accumulated torment felt manageable and small beside the wealth of their devotion to one another. To fall in love was unlike any other experience Hubert had studied or encountered. It only made sense that it came with benefits all its own as well. “Tomorrow, I believe I will share it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A little spicy, a little sweet! And as always, I'm very much here for any comments you'd like to share.</p><p>You can <a href="https://jamblute.tumblr.com/">follow me on Tumblr</a> or <a href="https://twitter.com/jamblute/">on Twitter</a> for more of my works and just things I like to share and chat about in general.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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